First American Edition 1986

THE RED SEA PRESS,

556 Bellevue Avenue.,

Trenton, N.J. 08618

Copyright © John Markakis

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be

reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in

any form or by any means electronic, mechanical,

photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior

written permission of the publishers.

Cover design by Adjoa Jackson-Burrowes

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 85-62178

ISBN: 0-923415-04-0 Cloth

ISBN: 0-923415-05-9 Paper

To the brave youth of Ethiopia

May its vision of the future never darken

SUDAN

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SIDA MO

KENYA

RED SE:A

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• Maror

E.T-HIOPIA

l'~OVl~CIAL "V"ION'

C.A~llAL~ e

MAJO~ TOWt.lS O

50MALIA

Go nda,

MAJOR LANGUAGES OF ETHIOPIA

A~n Ga<ta - T,gre ~ Somal• /// r,grai ,'/,

,, ., $idama \\\

Gunge I 11 Alar ; II -- Soho '// e.ia ,'~~ Undasihed

111

RELIGIONS OF ETHIOPIA

MAJOR AREAS OF CONCENTRATION

Contents

In Memoriam . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

PART ONE: THE ANCIEN REGIME

1. The Feudal Foundation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 1

2. Imperialism and Transformation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30

3 . Peripheral Capitalism and Development . . . . . . . . . 44

4. Capitalism and Agriculture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55

5. Eritrea . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61

6. A Post Mortem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68

PART TWO: THE REVOLUTION

7. The February Revolution . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77

8. The Soldiers' Revolution . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102

PART THREE: THE MILITARY REGIME

9 . Reforms and Contradictions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127

10. Dictatorship and Counter-Revolution . . . . . . . . . . . 146

Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178

Salute the dead

because they died

Salute the dead

for they made living possible

Salute the ones who have given life to the future

by becoming the past

(An unnamed Ethiopian revolutionary poet)

Introduction to ·American Edition

political struggle was raging in Ethiopia when this book was

written. Though many groups were involved, essentially it was a

lhr-~-~ c~orn.en:~d_~Q!1f!u;t involving the IJ}jl_itary., who claimed

control of the state following the overthrow of the imperial

regime, the c~~Llia]).~,.QQQOsitio.n which forcefully contested the

soldiers'. ~laim, and the nationalist liberatipJ! .. JP..Q~ill~S that J

we~e striving to detaclr--rtreir"'te-gr~ffi5mthe Ethiop~~~

· was conce ecnrs-·~rsuifimary15Te~11tation·TI1c omp1ex

events that were little known, and even less understood, abroad.

Its purpose was to lend support to those who were fighting at

that time to establish popular democratic foundations for their

country's political future and who acknowledged the rights of

national minorities for self-expression and autonomy. We

argued that imposition of military rule was inimical to the cause

of popular participation and the aspiration for a socialist

transformation. Neither surprisingly or undeservedly, our work

attracted considerable criticism. Those who regarded the

military intervention as a positive factor dubbed this argument

an extremist 'betrayal of the revolution' thesis, while those who

regarded the Dergue as the embodiment of the revolution

denounced it simply as 'counter-revolutionary'.

The. batt!~£.J~9~- -9.~.9JJ!!L~ . .rY!~ .. .hA-~.!l~-~<~-,l~~.:... The

civilian opposition was destroyed, and the regime was able to

consolidate its hold on the state. The Ethiopian Peoples

Revolutionary Party, MEI SON, and lesser groups were

obliterated leaving the field clear for the regime to fashion its

own politi~al support structures. Achieved with great violence,

this victory was not without a price for Ethiopia. A generation

of militants was neutralized; its members dead, self-exiled, or

cowed into pass1v1ty. The revolutionary ferment they had

sustained for several years died down, and it was in stagnant

political waters that the Workers Party of Ethiopia was founded

in 1984. This party can be counted upon to provide reliable

political support for military rule, but it can hardly be said to

constitute an alternative to it. It appears that the destruction of

the Left condemned Ethiopia to an indefinite period of

authoritarian rule by its soldiers, a heavy burden for any

country to bear.

The ongoing conflict has narrowed to a contest between the

regime and the nationalist movements. The continuation and

steady escalation of this bloody struggle into the tenth year after

the revolution underlines a crucial feature of the incumbent

regime. This is its determination to preserve, at all costs, both

the domain and the highly centralized structure of the state it

inherited from the ancien regime. The enormity of this task has

dwarfed all other national concerns for a decade. Its cost has

been enormous and continues to mount, while progress in other

fields awaits its outcome which remains uncertain. Locked in

this struggle, Ethiopia's rulers were unable to prevent the onset

or to halt the growth of a famine ten times worse than the

disaster of 1972-74. Thus, the tenth anniversary of the

revolution that had been proclaimed in their name found many

thousands of Ethiopian peasants dying of starvation and

millions of others facing the same fate, while many of their

compatriots trekked to refugee camps in neighboring countries

to find relief.

Writing an introduction to the second printing of this book, I

see little reason to revise the tentative conclusions we reached

some eight years ago.

John Markakis

Crete, 1985

1 1

In Memoriam

The notion to write this volume was conceived in the summer

of 1975. It was Nega Ayele who first broached it, during my

visit to a famine relief station, at the edge of the plateau overlooking the Danakil desert, in Wallo province. The station was

operated by the University and Nega was in charge of it. I

hadn't se~n him for six years. He was much heavier than the

slim student I had known in the late 1960s, and wore a beard,

as did nearly everyone else at the time. His health, never too

good, had deteriorated markedly, but his spirits were high. It

was a time of exuberant hope. The campaign in the countryside

was in full swing, and the students and teachers who participated

were determined to make the most of it. The University team

was distributing grain, teaching the nomads to plough, digging

a canal to divert the waters of a river for irrigation, and teaching

young shepherds to read. It had also organized peasant associations, operated a clinic, prepared to set up a clothmaking cooperative, and was planning a dozen other projects, all new and

wondrous things to the peasants of the isolated district which

had been devastated by the famine.

Peasants, students and teachers worked together. It was a

time of mutual acquaintance, not without surprises and second

thoughts. The peasants could not quite grasp the notion of

outsiders coming in their midst with selfless motives, particularly when they had the authority of government. They were

inclined to see the students as agents of the new regime, and

exasperated Nega by calling him 'governor'. The students marvelled at the peasants' wit and loquacity, and were disturbed

by their deviousness, a defence mechanism honed to perf ec-

_tion during ages of oppression. In fact, many of the students

12 CLASS AND REVOLUTION IN ETHIOPIA

were of peasant origin, but had been insulated from their past

through long years of schooling in the towns. Nega himself

was born into a peasant family in Gojjam province. After taking

a degree in political science at the University, he studied for a

master's degree in the United States, and returned in 1974 to

join the teaching staff. Now he recalled his past through flashes

of recognition. 'This is exactly what my father once said', he

would say after an exchange with some wizened peasant.

Most evenings, after a meagre supper, the campaigners

gathered around the fire. Gaunt bearded figures and pigtailed

girls in khaki uniforms, most of them in their teens, talked of

the day's events, exchanged impressions, gave voice to their

misgivings. Their relationship with the peasants was their main

concern. How could the gap be bridged? How could they

identify with the peasant and his problems? How could they

help him assert himself in a world which lay beyond his understanding? Invariably the talk turned to the political situation

and the military regime. Voices turned hoarse with emotion,

and daylight optimism gave way to gloomy, even desperate

thought. How could they hope to persuade the peasant to

seize the initiative when men with uniforms and guns were

still enforcing the orders of a distant government. Had anything

changed in that respect? Weren't they, themselves, acting as

agents of that government? Shouldn't they abandon the campaign and return to the cities to battle against the regime?

Oughtn't that to be the first priority?

Nega did not attempt to soothe their feelings. The nationalization of a few factories and the extension of a smallholding

pattern of land tenure throughout the country, he said, would

not alter the situation of Ethiopia materially. Only a thorough

mobilization of the masses in a planned development effort

could accomplish that task. The masses in their vast majority

were peasants, and the peasantry would not respond to any

government which did not truly represent it. Only a popular

government could give them this chance. That had been the

goal of the popular movement, which was betrayed by the

intervention of the military. The soldiers were not going to

relinquish power; it had to be wrested from them. However,

only an organized movement could hope to accomplish that.

IN MEMORIAM 13

Therefore, organization was the highest priority. Nodding

towards the students who were returning to their tents one

night, Nega predicted: 'They will fight, you'll see.'

These were still the halcyon days of the revolution, and I

was surprised and disturbed by the intensity of such feelings.

Nega and I talked at length, and he was surprised, in tum, by

what he called my 'illusions' regarding the true nature of the

new regime. He was also disturbed to learn that these were

generally shared by people abroad. He suggested that I study

the matter at greater depth and, while I was at it, write something on it that others could read. I proposed that we work

together and Nega agreed. Soon afterwards, he took leave and

came to Addis Ababa. For several weeks we sat in his office

at the University, sifting through and discussing the material

available. Colleagues on their way to and from their campaign

stations dropped in and joined the discussion, offering fresh

data and viewpoints. Nega left to return to Wallo, and I continued on my own. Colleagues, former students and friends,

many of them recently appointed to responsible posts, were

able and eager to help. The result was a wealth of information

that proved truly embarassing, since the first draft turned out

to be a bloated piece, which Nega pronounced simply 'terrible'.

A mutual friend at the University was asked to help. A leading

political activist with a brilliant mind, he outlined a new approach which turned out to be quite suitable. In the hope that

he remains alive, though long now a captive of the regime, our

friend must remain nameless.

I returned to Addis Ababa the following summer. Ethiopia's

quaint capital had the oppressive air of a town under alien

occupation. The campaign in the countryside was over, and

returned students thronged the streets staring at the army jeeps

patrolling the city. The season of mass discontent had set in;

the regime had bared its fangs. Ethiopians were learning to

dread the shrill traditional war song which introduced the ever

more frequent execution announcements over the radio. Nega

was back at the University. His health continued to deteriorate.

He seemed fatalistically resigned about it. 'It doesn't matter

how long you live, if you can accomplish something during that

time', he said. We discussed the manuscript, but it was obvious

-~

14 CLASS AND REVOLUTION IN ETHIOPIA

that Nega's mind was not on it. He was preoccupied by things

I knew nothing about. A sense of foreboding filled the air. We

drank a lot, and said little. People who had been close friends,

had now grown distant. Familiar faces were missing from

Nega's circle of friends. I had not heard of their being arrested.

'They've disappeared', Nega said with a smile, when I mentioned it.

Nega himself disappeared in September 1976, when the

battle against the military dictatorship was joined in earnest.

His name was entered on the regime's wanted list; in effect,

an automatic death sentence. He managed to avoid capture for

several months. On 10 March 1977, Nega and two of his comrades were caught inside a factory at the town of Akaki, near

Addis Ababa, and were murdered on the spot. Three days later,

the newspapers announced that he had been killed while trying

to run away. In fact, Nega's leg muscles had been wasted· by a

debilitating disease, and he could walk only with difficulty.

His story is told here not because it is unique, but because

it is typical of an uncommon generation of young people, for

whom life itself was not the highest end.

John Markakis

Athens, May 1977

15

Introduction

Not so long ago, an erudite member of the ruling class drew a

portrait of the typical Ethiopian. He depicted his compatriots

as a people who are innately conscious and respectful of class

status. The typical Ethiopian, he wrote,

'/ by instinct, he knows what he is, what is the exact measure of the

'(\ place which he occupies within his family, and at what height is found

S

t; the level occupied by his family in the social scale. He is convinced that

it is the Good God himself who put him where he is and put the others /y~ where they are, but he tries to elevate himself all the same by his merit.

However, in his respect for those who are placed higher than he, he

entertains always a sentiment that is quasi-mystical, and he accommodates himself with good grace and never transgresses.

1

This complacent view of social inequity enjoyed the formidable

support of the Ethiopian Church, the venerable custodian of the

country's dominant culture. Not long afterwards, the chief administrator of .l,.J,J.u.i;:1.iJ.L~~~-t'-w,1,,,o.~.w..n-his-own-tltt>tigh,ts.,.011.,..n

the subject. e described a social hierarchy comprising four

eves; 1gh, middle, low and lowest. Fate dictates a man's

position, and its edict is unchallengeable and unchangeable.

'Therefore, any human creature should keep his position in the

hierarchy and should know his capacity', he wrote, 'and if he

lives according to the position assigned to him by Fate, he will

not be 1mse or 't'W~~'2

=--------.....,

ile Ethiopians in all sectors of society were per ec y

1. Mahteme Selassie Wolde Maskal, 'Portrait de l'ethiopien typique'. Paper presented

at the Third International Conference of Ethiopian Studies, Addis Ababa, 1966,

p.6.

2. Amde Tsion Tessema, Bahl na Siltane (Tradition and Civilization), Addis Ababa,

1967, p.50.

16 CLASS AND REVOLUTION IN ETHIOPIA

aware of their position in the social structure, apparently not

all shared the complacency and self-satisfaction expressed in

these views. Indeed, an increasing number had begun to reject

the supernatural in favour of purely mundane conceptions of

the human condition. 'We shouldn't follow only scientific

and philosophical lines', warned our Church author. 'To be

sophisticated in knowledge and progress, to work and climb up

in the hierarchy, to profit in trade and produce through farming, all these are gifts of God or Fate. '

3 The warnings were

obviously to no avail. Before much time had elapsed, the ranks

of the doubters grew to become legion, and their combined

strength easily toppled the sacrosanct hierarchy, bringing down

to earth a class of men who believed themselves ordained to rule

over their fellows.

Today one might well wonder what caused the typical

Ethiopian to transgress so violently against the ordained social

order. What led the low and the lowest of the low to attempt to

seize Fate and bend it to their own requirements? Why were the

former ruling classes incapable of resisting this onslaught? Was

this, their end, fated as well? If Fate is to be dispensed with

from now onwards, what forces will determine the pattern of

a new social structure in Ethiopia?

This study represents a modest effort to suggest plausible

answers to these and related queries. The key to them will be

sought in the evolving relationships between the various social

classes of Ethiopia, before and after the 197 4 revolution. Though

cast in a feudal mould, the ancien regime was not immune to

change. During the first half of this century, social and political

transformation was induced as a result of the great expansion of

the Ethiopian state southwards. Subsequently, economic and

social change was promoted by endogenous forces interacting

with western capitalism. This connection fostered a degree of

modernization, which also served as a facade for development.

The true nature of such development lay in the swift ripening of

social contradictions within...the_Q_od of a socieJy..r_i_y_~.!!..QY class . 1 cleava e , · . . . -ocess was:ilie -j'

opular revolt of 1974. ur first task is to depict the changing

3. Ibid.

INTRODUCTION 17

position and altering relationships among the various social

classes during the lifetime of the farmer regime. This process of

fairly rapid evolution, the prelude to revolution, is traced in the

first part of this study.

Part Two follows the course of the revolutionary current

since it broke through the medieval dam in February 1974. The

uprising brought together a number of social groups in a spontaneous, convergent, but unorganized and leaderless assault on

the imperial regime. Among the active participants were the

lower levels of the armed forces, the first sector to have its

established hierarchy disintegrate as the result of class conflict.

When the beleaguered regime began to crumble, and before the

popular movement could evolve its own organization and political leadership, the soldiers thrust themselves forward to claim

power, and the revolution was diverted into the stagnant

channel of military rule. The enthronement of the military

dictatorship betrayed the popular movement by rejecting the

basic demand for a people's government.

In an effort to gain support, the military regime proved

responsive to other popular aspirations, and adopted for its own

a number of proposals for economic and social reform advocated by the country's progressive elements. On the basis of

these accomplishments, it claimed legitimacy in the name of

revolutionary socialism. This claim, and the soldiers' often contradictory behaviour, created considerable initial confusion

at home, and seemingly lasting perplexity abroad. Nevertheless, the regime was not able to impose itself as a credible

political force in Ethiopia. On the contrary, it soon became the

target of a concerted and increasingly militant opposition on

the part of the same social groups which had initiated and sustained the revolt against the ancien regime. The character of the

new regime became clarified in the struggle to contain this

opposition. The facade of collective leadership was violently

tom to reveal the consolidation of a personalized dictatorship

based on force of arms, a familiar enough type. Its primary

goal, equally commonplace, was to cling to power at all cost.

However banal this might seem, it threatened to have profound

consequences for the popular movement and the future of

Ethiopia. The annihilation of the progressive forces became the

18 CLASS AND REVOLUTION IN ETHIOPIA

essential requirement for the regime's survival, and the ruling

clique set about this task with ruthless determination. Regrouped

underground, militant elements of the popular movement fought

back with grim tenacity, suffering heavy losses, while succeeding

in exposing the hollowness of the regime's revolutionary creed.

The outcome of the new struggle lies in the future. The forces

and factors involved are described in the last chapter of our study.

PART I

The Ancien

Regime

. '

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21

Chapter 1

The Feudal Foundation

Geography and history endowed Ethiopia with two distinct

regional profiles; conventionally, if not precisely, denoted as

North and South.* The distinction is not simply geographical,

nor merely-~ historical. I ts importance compels us to consider

each region separately, and we begin with the North for reasons

that will become obvious. Our aim is to depict briefly the

traditional class structure in both regions by analysing the

dominant economic relationship between social classes. This

relationship concerns land and its produce.

Unlike nearly everywhere else in sub-Saharan Africa, land in

he northern highlands of Ethiopia was never abund~nt. Indeed - ,

the ·ratio· of population to land is rev·erseclhere:anJ people have

been forced to till increasingly diminishing plots of declining ------...-- ,.. - ......... ____ ~ -------- ........... _ ...a....-

p rod ucti vi.ty caused by continuous use over the centuries. Con-··

sequently, the value o~ d as an instrument of production has

always ranked very highly, anc;Lposs.ession.of it has always been

a factor of paramount socio-economic significance. The use of .. ~--~- ·.,...,._,_ ... .-:-..r..1--..-~---~-1•~ ·----- -·~---........ ·- ... . - ·,•-----

the ox-pulled plough made intensive cultivation·· possible, and a

regular surplus was produced. The surplus was adequate enough

to support -a c ass-cl1Vttre'trsociety representing t~~~Jtinjty

of peaS3!_1,!~ w~rrj.9r-xule~_.i!,!1 ... d. priest. The relations of production

exhibfied the intricacy charac teristic of Afric n s ste_ms.-anclarh

not easily reduced to conventional cate ories Briefly and very

---sfmply, ih'eyaree ·xpressed in two basic kinds of rights super- ,

imposed over the same area of land. The foundation of the

stem is the peasant's right to a share of land derived from his

* A ugh dividing c wash rivers with

Addis Ababa at the centre. Shoa province in central Ethiopia is bisected by this line.